Fire and Hale
by Rua47
Summary: I was absolutely done with this alpha male bullshit. "Scott if you take one more step I'm gonna strangle you. Help Stiles up and get him back to your place. Here's his phone" I tossed it to him and turned to Allison. "I guess you're staying at this idiot's place tonight so I'll see you tomorrow sometime. I'm going to find out what the hell Hale's problem is." (College AU)
1. Chapter 1

I couldn't breathe. I was struggling, fiercely, but it was no good. Part of me wanted to give in, but I was too stubborn. I knew I could outsmart him if I could just take a second. "Stop" I gasped "Stiles, no, come on!"He had me trapped between him and the brick wall of the street, in a quiet corner removed from where I could see people pouring out of the clubs, laughing and stumbling. Allison and Scott were around somewhere too but Stiles was blocking my vision.

"Fuck sake Stiles!" I exclaimed, getting angry! "Get off of-" and suddenly he was pulled away from me and thrown to the ground. I stumbled forward and was steadied by a strong hand, my drink addled head spinning. Damn Allison and her "just one more, on me". The hand was still on my arm and I shook it off, looking up at whoever it was with a flicker of recognition, before he too was suddenly on the ground, clutching his face where Scott had landed his swinging fist.

"Scott!" I shouted after him, in shock, as Allison tried to pull him away from the guy on the ground who jumped angrily to his feet, while Stiles watched on from his patch of pavement. Scott was trying to push past an almost sobbing Allison, standing between him and the guy that had just knocked his best friend on his ass. I got a better look at his face this time, grasping for a name. It was hard when he was practically snarling with rage and blood from the cut above his eye was running down his face. Darren, Daniel, David D… Derek! Derek Hale, star athlete at my old high school where he had been four years ahead of me.

Anger, alcohol and testosterone were creating a dangerous atmosphere as Scott and Derek squared off, Allison still trying to push Scott backwards. Idiots. I'd had enough.  
"Hey!" I shouted. Again, louder. "HEY!" But still they didn't break eye contact. Frustrated, I marched over, black, strappy heels punctuating each step. I kept walking, right passed Scott and Allison until I was directly in front of Derek, the top of my head barely reaching his chin even in my heels. "Hale" I said, quietly now and dripping with menace. His murderous gaze faltered and he glanced down at me before his eyes snapped straight back to Scott's. "Walk." I said, pushing my hand into his firm chest. The only move he made was to clench his fists tighter. "Walk" I repeated, again pressing him back down the street. A few seconds passed before he exhaled a breath, turned around, glared at Stiles who flinched, and started walking, shoulders tense and fists still clenched.

Scott made to go after him, which really did it for me. I was absolutely done with this alpha male bullshit. "Scott if you take one more step I'm gonna strangle you. Help Stiles up and get him back to your place. Here's his phone" I tossed it to him and turned to Allison. "I guess you're staying at this idiot's place tonight so I'll see you tomorrow sometime."  
"Wait, Lydia where are-"  
"I'm going to find out what the hell Hale's problem is, then I'm getting a taxi back to ours, climbing into bed and regretting this whole night. Bye Allison."  
I briefly saw the hurt on her face before I was stomping off after Derek. No, it wasn't her fault that the night had turned out like this but I was seriously pissed off. And Mr Hale was going to explain himself right now.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek stopped walking once he heard me following him, his tense form silhouetted against the streetlight. I reached him and waited, arms folded and lips pursed, with a slight raise of my eyebrow. In the dim light I could see that his left eye was beginning to swell where Scott had punched him. His frown half concealed the cut just under his eyebrow.

Still I waited for him to speak first. The silence only broken by the last few stragglers stumbling by, laughing and joking as they made their way home. Ha. He thought I'd break first. Looked used to getting his way. Well sorry Derek, Lydia Martin does not break. Ever.

It felt like hours, but could only have been minutes, when Derek finally became so annoyed that he spat "What?!" at me.

What? WHAT? He was about to know EXACTLY what.  
"Seriously?" I said coldly. "You're asking me what? You attack my friend out of nowhere and then try to start a fight with my other friend and you're asking ME what?" If possible his frown darkened and he looked almost dangerous. There was no one left walking down the street now. Just me and this clearly unstable, violent man who I really didn't know anything about. Shit.  
"Your friend." He said, quietly. "How can you call him your friend? He was attacking you! If I hadn't dragged him off you…" his expression softened and he hesitated "… are you OK?" he asked, a bit awkwardly.  
I was so confused. Attacking me? Where did he get that idea from? I thought back to what happened before Hale came in like a wrecking ball. Stiles was… and then it all made sense.

"Oh my God! Stiles wasn't attacking me you idiot!" Now that I knew what happened, anger started flaring up. This whole night ruined because Derek Hale wanted to be a hero? Unbelievable.  
"I took Stiles's phone because he was trying to drunk text Malia. His ex girlfriend." Now Derek looked confused, not understanding what this had to do with anything.  
"Then Stiles was trying to get it back. He was tickling me, trying to get his phone back."  
Derek shook his head. "No… no you were begging him to get off you. I heard you!"  
"Yeah Hale. I hate tickles."  
Derek was still trying to reason it out, trying to find a way to justify what happened. "So" he started before I cut him off.  
"So you jumped in and attacked him and ruined everybody's night because of some arrogant notion you had about saving the damsel in distress. Yeah."  
Derek winced, from the injury to his pride or to his face I didn't know.

A cold gust of wind startled me out of my rage. It had been raining on and off during the day so I hoped it wasn't going to start again. As I began to calm down I looked at Derek, properly this time. He was looking over my head, still glowering and tense. As if he was waiting for me to get it all out. I tried to get a better look at the cut on his face but it was hard to while he had his back to the nearest streetlight. Realising he was now under scrutiny, his eyes flicked down to mine. His expression softened, unsure of what I was about to say or do next, and the tilt of his head gave me a better view of his eye. It looked pretty bad. He frowned again as I silently walked around him and he turned to face me. With the light now at my back, the blood and bruising were painfully visible on his otherwise gorgeous face. In any other circumstance it would have been entirely inappropriate to stare. Not that I was happy with the situation. Just silver linings or whatever.

I broke my eyes away when I noticed a taxi driving towards us, and I shivered again remembering how cold I was. "Come on" I said to Derek as I stepped out with my hand raised. The taxi slowed down to a stop. I pulled the door open, looking back at him to see he hadn't moved an inch. Fuck I was cold, and tired. "Alison has a load of first aid stuff. I'm going to patch up your eye. Now get in" and with that I sat into the taxi and shut the door.  
There was a second of a delay before Derek gave in and walked to the car and sat in sullenly. He was so grumpy I didn't know why I was even bothering. With a dramatic eye roll I gave the driver my address and we pulled off in icy silence.


	3. Chapter 3

The first aid kit was full to bursting with all kinds of plasters and pills. Alison's love for combat sports meant that our apartment was always fully stocked. I had already taken an icepack out of the freezer and wordlessly given it to Derek, who was now standing in the kitchen doorway. After I'd washed my hands and grabbed a couple of things I needed I pulled out a worn, wooden chair from the table and motioned for Derek to sit down. "I can-" he started but I cut him off.

"Just sit down and stop talking" I said abruptly, and felt a twinge of guilt for being such a bitch.

As much as it was Derek's own fault for getting involved and misreading the situation, during the short, silent taxi ride I thought about it;  
He's a big, stupid, short tempered fool. But his motivation was to help me.  
But who does he think he is trying to help me, who says I need help?  
But if I had needed help he was going to protect me, regardless of his own safety.  
Ugh.  
Despite trying to stay angry, I couldn't help feeling bad that he was hurt.

Reluctantly, Derek sat in the chair facing me, with the icepack still pressed to the left side of his face. He stared straight ahead and I could tell he was frustrated and maybe hurt by my coldness. I held out my hand and he slowly pulled the icepack away from his face and handed it to me. I winced as he revealed the damage in the bright kitchen light. His eye was swollen almost shut and his cheekbone was shiny and red. Though he had wiped some blood away with the sleeve of his dark grey henley shirt, there was some dried around his eyebrow and eye.

I quickly kicked off my heels and lost 6 inches in height, bringing me closer to his face while he was seated. I thought I saw him smirk at the change, but when I turned back to him he was stony faced again. With a clean cloth and warm water I tried to very gently wipe away the remaining blood from his face. He was perfectly still and silent, but I could feel his jaw clenching with the effort. "Sorry" I whispered when I reached the cut beneath his eyebrow and he flinched. Once the area was clean, I reached for an antiseptic wipe to disinfect the cut. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!" I repeated quickly as I cleaned it and Derek couldn't help letting out a hiss of pain at the sting. I looked down briefly, and he gave a small smile at my apologies before we both looked away.

Without the blood crusted around it, the cut was quite small, probably less than a centimetre long, above the corner of his left eye, just below the brow. As gently as I could I held the wound closed with my fingers and applied two Steristrips. I'd seen Alison do this a couple of times to prevent scarring.

I was concentrating so hard on applying the strips, so that the cut was completely closed, that I didn't realise how close my face was to Derek's. He was no longer staring away angrily, but instead was looking right at me, amused by my determined expression. His right eye was a captivating green colour, I noticed, framed by dark lashes. I didn't look away this time, and he didn't either. I was aware that my face was too close to his now that I was finished. He hadn't gone this long without frowning all night and he looked almost younger in contrast to the busted up half of his face, which brought a rush of guilt to my stomach. And with this guilt came a flash of my previous annoyance.

I pulled back quickly and handed him the icepack again. "All better" I said, dryly. "Keep the ice on it; you'll be able to see fine once the swelling's gone down. As for what you _think_ you see…" I trailed off, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall to the door. I didn't have to look at him to know the frown that had undoubtedly returned to his face. I heard the chair scrape back as he stood up and followed me. I opened the door, and held it without looking at him, feeling slightly embarrassed at how cruel I was being. Without so much as a goodbye he walked past me and out the door. I was so angry at the whole situation I could have screamed, but settled for slamming the door behind him, except that he stopped it with his foot just before it closed. Incensed, I threw it back open, looked up at him and asked "What?" He paused, seemed to be struggling for words, before spitting "Thank you" and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

DEREK

"Heard you get in pretty late last night" said Peter, smugly, as he sauntered into the kitchen the next morning. All of a sudden the milk in my cereal tasted a little sour. Peter could have that effect.

"Finally decided to make the most of being the hot bartender did you?"

My silence did not deter him. It never does.

"All those gorgeous, young, helpless girls throwing themselves at you everrrryy night"

I gritted my teeth, and winced at the pain in my head.

"I don't know how you resist" Peter continued as he sat down in the chair opposite, "those sweet, drunk eyes telling you that you can have them whatever way you want-"  
"That's enough" I cut him off. Creep. As soon as I had enough money saved I was out of here. Peter had taken me in after the fire, taken us in. Me, Cora…  
"DEREK!" I came back to the present with a start. "I said what happened to your face?"

He'd noticed my bruised eye, already yellowing around the edges. For the briefest moment he looked worried. I sighed, then stood up and left the kitchen, the way most of our conversations end. If you could even call them conversations.

Our relationship was never a good one. Peter was my mom's younger brother, immature and irresponsible. Growing up, that made him fun and I was always delighted when he visited. But it wasn't a healthy relationship. Peter bought me my first beer, let me ride his motorcycle, gave me advice on how to pick up girls. I basically worshipped him. But then I grew up; saw my sisters getting messed around by assholes who had no respect for women, realised that they were just like Peter - just like me. I saw the way he treated my mom, who loved him in spite of his flaws, but could never rely on him.

He did his best to make up for that, after it happened.

But I couldn't go down that road right now. It never ended well. I'd worked too hard to pull myself together. I scanned the room for my wallet and my keys and my eyes fell on the icepack. I groaned in frustration. Anger flared up, my fists clenched and I was breathing heavily. Christ, I needed to get it together. I was already going to have to put up with Peter watching me when he thinks I'm not looking, checking to see if I'm going to fall apart again. I saw that look he gave me earlier. Fear. That he would have to deal with me again if I lost it.

No, I needed to stop thinking.

Fuck, my head hurt.

LYDIA

Allison loudly knocking on my door was what eventually woke me up. My head felt heavy and my throat was raw and sore.

"Yeah" I croaked, squinting at the brightness when I opened my eyes. Looking at the small, red alarm clock on my bedside locker, I saw it was passed noon.  
The door opened a crack and Allison peeked her head through, smiling sheepishly. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course" I said, my voice rasping slightly. I sat up and moved over on the bed to make room for her to sit down. Allison handed me a cup of coffee and got into bed next to me. We often did this when recovering after a night out, or if we were just having a lazy morning. "Thanks" I said, with a smile. "Was Stiles okay last night?"  
"Oh totally fine, I mean at least he finally stopped going on about Malia for like a minute" Allison replied with a laugh.  
"Well that's a relief" I joked back, followed by a pensive silence.

"Look," I started, "I'm sorry I-"  
"Don't be!" She cut in immediately, frowning. "Scott was being such an idiot! I was so mad, he can't just pick fights with people like that."  
"Yeah, but still. I was in a shitty mood, and then that fight almost blew up and I acted as if it was your fault."

"Forget it" She said smiling. A few seconds passed before Allison smirked. "Silly, silly boys" she said, and gave me a nudge with her elbow, which then caused my coffee to spill over the side of the cup. We both froze and watched the brown liquid stain the snow white sheets. Simultaneously, we burst out laughing and I had to pass my cup back to Alison to put safely on the locker. We continued laughing at nothing in particular, just the ridiculousness of it all. That's how it was with us. Best friends from day one.

Allison almost choked after I told her Derek had been at the apartment. She was dying to get all the juicy details, and was more than a little disappointed to find out there were none.  
"Lydia! He was so hot!"  
I plastered an expression of shock across my face. "I wonder what Scott would have to say about that"

"I don't care, it's a fact. Hot."

"I guess he was kind of, conventionally handsome…"

"Oh you guess?"

We broke off in laughter again, which turned into a fit of sneezes for me.

"You poor thing" Alison said, with a sympathetic smile. "I'm just heading to the gym, I could pick you up some cold and flu meds in the drugstore after?"  
"No it's fine I need to do some shopping anyway"

"Ok well if you change your mind, text me" and with that, Alison collected her gym bag (and unbelievable energy) and left.

I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on some jeans and a big jumper. My headache felt worse when I was upright. I roughly tied my hair up cringing as I looked in the mirror. My eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, with what I missed of last night's make up smudged around them. My cheeks were unusually red, suggesting that my temperature may be raised. As a rule, I never left the house looking this disheveled, but despite what I said to Alison, all I wanted to do was find something for the headache, sore throat, somehow both runny and blocked nose, and get straight back into bed.


	5. Chapter 5

DEREK

I felt another set of eyes on me as I walked down the aisle in the store. My face was drawing a lot of attention, which I hated. I gritted my teeth and mentally kicked myself for not thinking to wear a hat, or sunglasses or something. An old couple pushed their cart by, giving me disapproving looks. A mother took her child by the hand and hurried him past me.

I kept my head down, almost growling in frustration, head pounding. When I reached the medicines section, I scanned the items to see what the strongest painkillers available were. As I searched through the Tylenols, aspirins and ibuprofens, I felt another person had stopped to get a good look. At this point I felt my hands shaking in frustration, my muscles clenching as I tried to control my breathing and stay calm. Had these people never seen a busted eye before? The person continued to boldly stare at me. What the hell was their problem? My frustration was building, and the person was still staring, and I had had enough.  
"Yes?" I snarled sarcastically as I turned to face my audience

LYDIA

I shuffled through the aisles in a daze, perfectly unaware of everyone around me. My head felt like a weight pressing down on my neck. My hearing was muffled, the sound of my breathing heavy in my ears, and every breath scratched at my sore throat. Squinting at the fluorescent lights, I sought the medications section. Once again rifling through Allison's first aid kit, I'd found a range of painkillers but nothing for cold and flu. I had picked up some soup as it was the only thing I could face eating. Now where was the damn Nyquil?

I finally found the aisle I was looking for, but there was already someone standing in front of the section, so I had to wait. My mind was fuzzy and my eyes glazed over as I stared into space ahead of me, waiting until the other customer moved on. I barely noticed that they were unusually still. My mind wandered over nothing in particular; how I should probably reply to Stiles's messages when I got home, what work I had due for classes this week, how to react to Jackson's "You up?" text at 2am last night. Waiting patiently, I daydreamed about nothing in particular until I was sharply brought back to reality by the other customer, who turned to me suddenly with an aggressive "Yes?" in my direction.

Shocked, I jumped slightly, and my eyes focussed on the now familiar figure. Of all the people I could have run into today, this had to be the worst case scenario. This weekend was fast becoming a nightmare. As I struggled to find my words, his face swiftly changed from anger to embarrassment. I still didn't know how to react, my synapses not firing as quickly as usual. We stood in awkward silence for a few seconds, before he turned back to the shelves and grabbed whatever was closest. Just as he was moving to walk away he paused, and without looking at me muttered a quiet "sorry, I…" followed by another silence, and then left me, confused, watching as he stiffly walked off.

DEREK

I could not have gotten out of there fast enough. "STUPID FUCKING IDIOT" my mind screamed at me. I almost threw the money at the cashier in my rush to get out of there. I got into my car and slammed the door behind me. My hands were shaking as I tried to put the keys in the ignition. After three attempts I gave up, flinging them into the passenger seat. Squeezing my eyes shut I tried to control my breathing and work out what the hell just happened. I scared her; that much was obvious. I saw her flinch back from me, her eyes wide with shock, cheeks flushed.

"FUCKING IDIOT" I shouted, this time aloud, each word punctuated with a slam of my palms off the steering wheel. I then crossed my arms over the wheel, stinging hands clutching the opposite arm, and lay my head on my forearms and took several slow, shaky breaths. I needed to regain control. I needed to be in control. I counted my breaths, in, out, deeply, slowly, trying to clear my mind, in, out, in, out...

At about my 20th breath I was interrupted by the sound of a car horn. My hands were no longer shaking and my heart had stopped racing. With a sigh, I reached for my keys and drove home.

LYDIA

The outside lights hurt my eyes while I stood, frozen at the exit of the store, looking across the lot to the old, black Camaro. Once my mind had rebooted, I'd left my shopping and followed Derek, motivated by pure rage. What the FUCK was his problem? Why the FUCK was he such an asshole? My anger gave me an energy that overcame my heavy limbs and head, surging through my body as I stomped out of the store in pursuit. But what I saw had stopped me in my tracks, confusing my tired brain once again.

The strong, moody figure that had frustrated me last night with his closed off looks and lack of expression, breaking down inside his car. I'd seen him throw his keys, clutch at his hair, beat his fists on the steering wheel and collapse forward with his head in his hands, shoulders heaving. My anger dissipated as quickly as it had formed and I had an overwhelming feeling of pity.

Before I knew it my legs were carrying me forward in his direction, my eyes trained on the defeated figure in the car, completely unaware of the approaching vehicle as I stepped off the sidewalk into its path. The car screeched to a halt, blasting its horn, startling me out of my fixation. Shocked at my own carelessness, I hurriedly stepped back, waving frantic apologies at the driver, face red with embarrassment. The people with their shopping carts swiftly looked away as I turned and continued on their way, as if to pretend they hadn't all been staring at the dumb girl who'd just stepped into traffic. Looking back at the spot Derek had been parked in, I saw his car was gone.


End file.
